


Cordial

by Eternallost



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Character(s), Banter, Beaches, Drinking, Enemies to Friends, F/M, The End, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternallost/pseuds/Eternallost
Summary: Olaf survives thanks to the Baudelaires. Well, one in particular.
Relationships: Violet Baudelaire/Count Olaf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Cordial

_At least they kept the cordial,_ Olaf thought as he sat with his midsection wrapped, surreptitiously sipping the drink that could pass for a shitty Pina Colada knock-off.

“You’re not allowed to drink that!” Violet reached for the shell, only to have Olaf lift it higher.

“Ah, ah.” Olaf kept it from her grasping hand. “This is for grown-ups.”

“I’m eighteen,” Violet huffed. “Besides, it’s not like that kept my siblings and I safe when we were underage.”

It had been a month since the others had left the island. Since Kit’s death. Since the birth of another mouth to feed. Since Violet’s own birthday. And, since Olaf’s near encounter with death; from which he was still recovering.

Things had changed for both parties. Some, mercifully, for the better. He couldn’t ‘win’ now; they both knew that. He wasn’t a legal guardian. He had no claim to the Baudelaire fortune when they returned. The only thing waiting for him on the mainland was jail time. If they were able to catch him. **If.**

The ever-present flames of hatred in his eyes had all but extinguished. The greedy shine dulled with acceptance.

The hatred and fear had extinguished in Violet as well. A man that she’d thought of as a villain had rescued a heroine sans hesitation. It was as if a child had taken an eraser and blurred all she’d assumed to be true: The leader of the VFD cult was a villain. The judicial system had not prevailed. Many good people had died.

 _Good_ people… each with their own idea of good.

Who was Violet to define that for them? Her record was about as clean as paper sloppily smeared in graphite. Granted, her crimes were all thanks to a certain someone currently at her mercy.

“Eighteen?” Olaf eyed the girl suspiciously. She had always been pretty.

Long, dark locks.

Eyes like polished stone.

The natural plum shade of her lower lip.

A lip that didn’t pout anymore.

...He’d missed that.

“You hardly look a day over five,” he fibbed. “What, does the baby have a drivers license?”

“And you hardly look a day over ninety.”

His upper lip briefly curled over his gums. “I’ll have you know I was a hot commodity in my day.”

“When was that, 1865?”

“Har. Har.” His hand wrapped around her slim wrist. “Go on. Look at me.”

Her heart sped as her eyes grew in surprise. Her gaze traveled from his grip to his face.

“Can you honestly say that you feel nothing?”

“Not a thing.”

His brow quirked, a chink in his armor, “Nothing at all?”

She snatched her hand away as her stomach flipped. “Slight distaste,” she mocked.

A smirk grew on his face. “I can work with that.”

“Oh, please. Is that what they all felt for you?”

“Who?”

“Those women you took advantage of.”

The corners of his lips pulled. “Again, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Madame Lulu.”

“Probably.”

“Esme.”

“Certainly.”

“Kit.”

His smile died. “…No.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t fret, orphan,” Olaf sighed, running a hand through his salty hair. “Anything that we had dried up long before those pipsqueaks your brother is taking on a walk.”

“I see.”

The droning of waves carried on in the silence of their tent.

“Sit down,” Olaf motioned to the cot beside his. “You’re always moving. Always doing chores; as if it makes a difference on this forsaken island.”

“Well, sorry if I’m productive.”

“Go on,” he pat the bed emphatically.

“All right. But, only because I’ve done a lot today.” Violet tiredly swept her dress under her legs.

As she leaned forward in the close space, Olaf made an effort to take the drink from her grasp.

She became entangled in his arms, holding the full shell over both their faces.

Her breath mingled with his, alarmed, “You’ll rip your stiches.”

“Oh yes, the ones you so lovingly crafted.” He leered. “You may have thought I was out of it from the blood loss, but I saw the enjoyment you took in stabbing me intermittently.” His eyes swept over her face, regaining their greedy sheen, “Can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same.”

She took her cup, and the seat on the bed opposite. She had to drown the thoughts. The feelings. The memories. The hardship.

She took a sip of the awful liquid.

“Violet,” he spoke in awe.

“What- no orphan, brat, or Baudelaire?” Violet scoffed. “I can’t believe you can actually recall my name.”

He breathed a laugh. “I can’t believe you can actually loosen up.”

“Hm,” she sipped.

“And I can’t believe a goody two shoes like you doesn’t know how to share.”

“My parents taught me how. They said I shouldn’t share with strange men.”

“Strange men?” He mockingly clutched his heart, “Where?”

She laughed through her nose.

In that instant, the Count had taken a seat beside her.

“Olaf!” Violet gasped.

“Ah, so you remember my name. I prefer it to the disdainful stare.”

“I haven’t looked at you like that in a while.”

“So, you're saying you don’t hate me?” His fingers grazed hers as he cupped the shell.

“No, Olaf. You’re misguided. Foolish.” Her eyes flashed over his features. “a womanizer and quite possibly the most villainous man I’ve ever met. But, no. I don’t hate you.”

He spun his finger. “Go back to the womanizer part.”

She sighed, “Sometimes I wish I weren’t the only woman on this island.”

“It wouldn’t matter.”

“What?”

“If there were others, it wouldn’t matter.”

She blinked at him.

“Because you’re the one with the coconut cordial.” He snatched it out of her grasp.

She closed her open mouth. “I've changed my mind.”

He finished the drink in one gulp and wiped his parched lips.

She stood. “I really do hate you.”

He smiled once more. “I can work with that.”


End file.
